


Deal With the Devil

by F1_rabbit



Category: Motorcycling RPF
Genre: Curses, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21954235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F1_rabbit/pseuds/F1_rabbit
Summary: Jorge's been carrying a secret for a long time, but someone's finally got close enough for him to trust them...
Relationships: Jorge Lorenzo/Marc Marquez
Comments: 7
Kudos: 18





	Deal With the Devil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hopefulstranger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopefulstranger/gifts).

> Merry Christmas! 🎉🎄🎁⛄❄

Jorge flinched when people started counting down to new year, his time was running out, and he was ready to admit defeat.

There had to be worse jobs than ruling over hell.

***

The Honda seat had seemed like a dream come true, until he tried to ride it.

It was almost unrideable, like a wild beast with a mind of its own, and he wondered how Marc managed to stay on it, never mind win championships on it.

This was how he was going to spend his last year on earth, with Puig calling him lazy and saying that he wasn't trying hard enough.

It didn't help that he was spending every night looking for the one.

The one who could save his soul from eternal damnation.

And so far, he hadn't even found anyone who could stand being around him for an evening.

He had people he paid, but that was different, it wasn't a love of him, but a love of his money.

The only person that had been around who showed any interest at all was Marc, but that was just because he was so cheery and helpful and he kept trying to help Jorge get the bike set up just how he liked it.

Just as he thought his year couldn't get any worse, he was in hospital, with fractured vertabrae.

No-one came to visit apart from his mum and his sister, and even then, his sister had her own life to live, and she couldn't stay with him for the whole time while he recovered.

He wondered where all his friends were, but he came to the awful realisation that he didn't have any, not ones who would visit when they weren't being paid to do something for him.

This was how he was going to end his time on earth, recovering from an injury, not able to ride bikes, his one true love.

It was a pity bikes couldn't love him back, or he'd have been free of this curse long ago.

Then, just as he was about to give up hope, a visitor came to see him, and it was the last person that he'd ever expected to see.

"Marc?"

"Hey, how's it going?"

"I'm in hospital, so badly."

"You'll recover, and come back stronger, you always do." Marc reached out to hold his hand as though it was no big deal, and Jorge knew that he spent a lot of time in hospitals, on both sides of the bed.

"How's the championship fight going?"

"It will be mine, but I'm going to have to fight for it." Marc grinned, and Jorge gave his hand a squeeze. "Rins is doing really well on that Suzuki, and Fabio, wow, he's fast."

"You're getting old now, these young guns are coming for you." Jorge laughed, but it sent pain all thought his chest, turning into a coughing fit.

Marc rushed to get him a glass of water, helping him to hold it steady as he took a sip.

"Thank you."

"Have you had a lot of visitors?"

"Apart from my mum and my sister, just you."

Marc tried to hug him, but there were various tubes and cables in the way, and he ended up just resting his arm on his knee.

"I can change that."

*

In less than an hour Marc seemed to have summoned every rider in Calalunya, and Jorge had no idea how he'd managed it, but he was so very grateful for the company.

"Thank you."

Marc smiled, looking proud of himself, and he winked at Jorge.

"What are friends for?"

***

"Ugh."

"I'm proud of you." Marc went in for a hug, but Jorge stopped him before he could get close enough to wrap his arms round.

"Fourteenth is nothing to be proud of."

"Riding while still injured takes a strength that other people will never know." Marc looked into his eyes, and Jorge wished that he could just take the compliment, but all he wanted to do was sulk.

"You've done it and won races." Jorge sat down on the small sofa, wondering if Roser was here to keep Marc's motorhome so tidy.

"So have you."

"When I was young." Jorge wished that he had a beer, but that would probably only make things worse.

"And you will do it again."

Jorge sighed, and Marc shook his head.

"Fine, we don't have to talk about it."

"Thank you." Jorge felt his muscles relax as Marc sat down next to him, and he was glad that the subject had been changed.

"You can pick the movie, but please no more documentaries, my brain is too tired." Marc stuck his tongue out as he crossed his eyes, and Jorge snorted in laughter.

Jorge picked a comedy film, and by the end of it, he'd stopped flinching every time that Marc laughed.

***

"Would you like more wine?"

"Yes, please."

Marc smiled at him as his mum poured more wine, and Jorge felt calm, no nerves or feeling like he had to say the right thing all the time, he could just be himself.

"Thank you, Roser."

Jorge wasn't sure how he'd ended up invited to dinner with Marc's parents, but he was enjoying this loving family dinner, something that he'd never really had growing up.

It was strange seeing Marc and Alex tease each other, the flip side to their media image of them being inseparable, and Jorge wondered what it would be like to have a sibling like that.

He loved his sister, he really did, and he wanted nothing but happiness and success for her. But they were very different people.

"What are you doing for Christmas?" Julia handed him a beer, and the alcohol was starting to rush to his head.

"Spending it with my mum and sister."

"That sounds lovely."

It was nice just to relax and talk to people about something other than bikes and the disastrous year that he'd been having, and he didn't want the night to end, but he had to go if he was going to make it home for Christmas.

"Thank you all for a lovely evening."

Jorge took a deep breath so that he could make it to the taxi though the snow lined path, and he paused at the door.

"Thank you."

"Anytime."

Marc gave Jorge a hug, and Jorge had to sniff back tears, wondering if he'd ever see Marc again. He had to see him one last time, and his brain blurted out the first excuse that he could think of.

"I'm having a new year's party."

"I'll be there."

***

Thanks to Marc, the new year eve's party was full of people, all happy and excited.

Everyone except Jorge, who was sitting and drinking on the balcony alone, at his own party.

"I wondered where you'd gone." Marc came and sat next to him, and Jorge felt like his soul was being crushed.

This was the last time that he'd ever see Marc.

"I have something to tell you." Jorge downed his beer, and Marc handed him another without saying a word.

"I'm not going to be at Honda next year."

"Yamaha? Suzuki? KTM?" Marc smiled, clearly waiting to hear all the gossip.

"I'm not going to be racing."

"But you'll still be around the paddock right?" Marc sounded so hopeful, and it was only making this harder for him.

"I won't be around at all." Jorge knew that he sounded dramatic, but this was his last day on earth, and there was no point hiding the truth any more.

"You're dying?"

"Not exactly."

Marc reached out to hold his hand, stroking the side of it with his thumb, and Jorge wished that he could have got longer with Marc, to get to really know him, like he had this last year.

"My dad did a deal with the devil, the literal devil, that I would be successful, and in return, at the end of the decade after my thirtieth birthday, I would go and rule over hell by his side."

Marc's smile wavered, his confusion showing, and Jorge knew he didn't believe a word that he said.

"It all sounds crazy, I know, but I don't doubt that it's true."

Jorge left out the part where he saw hell every night in his dreams, so warm and stifling, the air like smog, burning at his lungs.

"I'm sorry your dad told you that, but it's not true, there's no such thing as hell."

"I thought a good little Catholic boy like you would believe in hell."

"If there's a hell, I'm going straight to it."

It was Jorge's turn to look confused, and Marc leant in closer so that he could whisper.

"I'm gay."

"Oh, right, wow."

Marc froze, that clearly wasn't the response he was expecting, and Jorge could see the fear in his wide eyes, already looking for the exit.

"I'm sorry, that came out wrong. I just didn't expect you to tell me that." Jorge rested his hand on Marc's knee, hoping that he was comforting him.

"Do you want another drink?"

"I think I've had enough."

Marc rushed off, and he returned with a bottle of whisky, and a water for Jorge.

Watching Marc swig from the bottle, flinching at the taste of the whisky, would have been funny, if he wasn't the reason that he was drinking so heavily.

The stars twinkled above them, the sky still, and it felt like there was energy gathering in the air around them, that something big was about to happen.

"What can save you?"

"Sorry."

"You said your dad did a deal with the devil, and there's always a way out of these things in legends and fairy tales."

"True love's kiss." Jorge snorted in laughter, he'd always prided himself on being unique. "Isn't it such a cliche?"

Marc took another swig of whisky, and Jorge took the bottle away from him, taking a sip before putting it down on the table.

The air felt thick and heavy, and Jorge felt his heart race, wondering if this was it, if this was his time.

And then Marc kissed him.

It was the sloppiest, most uncoordinated kiss Jorge had ever been on the receiving end of, but it set his soul on fire, his heart racing so fast that it felt like it might burst with happiness.

"If that story was just to get a kiss from me, you could have just asked." Marc leant in for another kiss as the people started counting down from ten, and Jorge deepened the kiss, desperate to savour every last moment here on earth.

"Happy New Year!" There were party poppers and fireworks and it sounded like the whole city was cheering, and Jorge waited for the smell of smoke and sulphur, the warmth of the fires of hell, but nothing happened.

Marc nuzzled against the side of his neck, trailing little kisses along his jaw, before leaning up for another kiss, more confident this time, and they kissed until they were breathless.

"So, when are you going to hell?" Marc gave Jorge a playful nudge, clearly expecting Jorge to laugh at his joke, but Jorge was still in shock.

"You saved me." Jorge held Marc's hand tight, clinging to him to make sure he was really here.

"You are such a drama queen."

"Me?" Jorge pointed at Marc, and he pretended to act offended.

"I'm not as bad as Valentino."

"No-one does drama like Vale." Jorge snorted in laughter, leaning in for another kiss as the world kept on moving.

"Wait, does this mean that you love me?" Marc wiggled in his seat, cheering as though he'd just won a race.

Jorge thought of all the things that Marc had done for him this year, how he was always there when he needed a friend, and he realised that love wasn't grand gestures and romantic dinners, it was the little things.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> *and obviously none of this actually happened, it is all a figment of my twisted imagination ;)


End file.
